An Education In Muggle Culture
by SlytherinHouseMouse
Summary: A snapshot of the early years of the Tonks' marriage.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Fanfiction (Fan-Fik-shun)**

 **I took down all my stories a year or so ago to polish them up. (This is a repost of a previously posted story with some minor amendments.) Unfortunately, my hard drive then went kaput and I lost most of my work. I know it's a long-shot, but if anyone has saved a copy of "The Photograph Album" or "The Long Forgotten Prank" PLEASE PM me!**

'NO!' exclaimed Andromeda, 'absolutely not.'

'But Anna, why not?

'This conversation is over, Ted. I will not hear another word on the subject.'

'It never did me any harm.'

'I thought I said I didn't want to hear any more?'

'But it would make Mum and Dad so happy; they can identify with so little of Dora's life. It would be nice if she experienced _some_ muggle milestones.'

'Why? She's _not_ a muggle. And with the greatest respect to your parents, I don't think they quite comprehend the potential problems of this particular suggestion.'

'What problems?' Ted scoffed.

'Are you honestly telling me you haven't worked that one out? My daughter is not, under _any_ circumstances, going to muggle primary school. She can be taught at home. It never did me any harm.'

Ted raised an eyebrow in a ridiculous parody of his wife. The effect was slightly comical: Ted's open, friendly face utterly failed to pull off the necessary air of arrogance. Andromeda, artfully disguising her amusement as she reminded herself that Ted was _insulting her_ , tossed her head and fixed her husband with her haughtiest, most superior expression.

'I don't remember _you_ getting 7 "Outstandings" at NEWT Level.'

'True, but nor did I start Hogwarts genuinely believing that muggles were inadequate savages who still burnt witches at the stake, and that fraternising with muggle-borns was consequently not just beneath me, but actually a safety risk. I think you're feart. Or maybe you've not quite shaken off all of the old Black family prejudices? Mmm?'

'That was below the belt, Ted. And what sort of word is "feart"?'

'A wonderfully accurate and descriptive one. Just tell me why you're so against it.'

'A hundred reasons! Where to start? Oh yes: she's a _witch_!'

'But I went to muggle primary school, and I'm a wizard.'

'Yes, but you're muggle-born. There was no danger of you telling your teachers that a fairy lived on your mantelpiece because your daddy grew up with muggle fairy tales and was consequently too soft to evict it; or that your cousin called himself Padfoot and entertained you by turning into a dog and barking at your mother, who, by the way, turned into a cat and hit him on the nose! We can't ask her not to talk about it; magic is so normal for her she doesn't see anything strange in things like that. I don't think she always recognises what's magic and what's not.'

'Most four year olds come up with those sorts of stories; the teacher will just think she's bright and imaginative.'

'Until she turns her hair cerise pink. You really think sending a mischievous four year old metamorphmagus to muggle primary school is a sensible idea? Because it seems to me like the quickest way of making a mockery of the three hundred year old International Statute of Secrecy!

'So tell her not to.'

'She's _four_ , she can't always control it. And what happens when her classmates realise that she never invites them round for dinner? They'll think she's unfriendly, they won't want to be friends with her.'

'Anna, she hardly mixes with anyone anyway! This would actually give her the chance to get to know children her own age.'

Andromeda's resolve quavered at this remark. She had always felt guilt at Nymphadora's lack of friends; Andromeda and Ted's marriage had caused disquiet on both sides of the divide and resulted in Andromeda being ostracised by her family, and Ted being shunned by many of his friends. But this did not change the fact that sending Nymphadora to a muggle primary school would be a recipe for disaster. The havoc that would inevitably ensue didn't bare thinking about.

'And what'll my colleagues in the newsroom think when I have to tell them that Dora's being _home-schooled_? They already think I belong to some weird religious cult; this'll just confirm it to them.'

'This coming from someone who is continually telling me, and I quote: "you shouldn't care what other people think"? And what's strange about being taught at home? All the children I grew up with had a Governess!'

'Did you actually just use the word "Governess"?'

'Yes, your point being?'

Ted ignored this remark. Every now and again he was reminded of just how different his wife's upbringing had been to his own.

'Dora being at school would give you the chance to get back to work. I know you miss your job…'

'I won't have time! I'll end up spending every spare minute obliviating muggles! And anyway,' she continued loftily, 'educating my daughter will be a very worthwhile occupation.'

Ted rolled his eyes.

At that moment the argument was interrupted by the front door opening and the pitter-patter of four year old feet running through the hall accompanied by an excited war cry of 'mummymummymummymummymummymummy'. Andromeda was nearly thrown backwards as a tiny figure with dark blonde hair threw itself at her.

'Hello, darling,' said Andromeda, scooping her daughter up into her arms, 'did you have a fun day at Granny and Grandpa's?'

'No,' Nymphadora scowled.

'No?' Andromeda looked confused: Nymphadora adored her grandparents, and they always spoilt her rotten.

The child momentarily buried her head in her mother's shoulder, before drawing back and looking into Andromeda's face with doleful eyes.

'One of Granny's friends visited _uninvited_ and she wouldn't go away. Granny kept trying to tell her we were busy doing _big, important things_ but she wouldn't listen. And she kept telling me off when I tried to talk to Granny saying little girls shouldn't interrupt, but _she_ was interrupting _me_. And Granny's friend doesn't know about magic, so I couldn't play faces with Grandpa. It was really boring; _and_ she said my name was…fivvillus'

'Frivolous?'

'and ridiculous and that I was a bad girl for fidgeting and deserved a smack. I wanted to have your wand and then I could've pointed it at her and said "ridiculous" and she'd've disappeared in a puff of smoke 'cause I think she was probably a boggart.'

Nymphadora said this all apparently in one breath, her voice getting more impassioned with indignation as she went on; her little face looking increasingly like it was on the point of tears.

'What's wrong with my name?'

'Absolutely nothing, darling,' said Andromeda, tense with fury that anyone could speak to her baby like that. Even _Bellatrix_ had not insulted Nymphadora when she had bumped into her in Diagon Alley (in fact she had been rather pleasant to the metamorphmagus until she had noticed Andromeda and realised who the child was, whereupon she had simply thrown her sister a look of disgust and taken her leave). Andromeda looked over at her husband; Ted looked livid. 'It's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. You don't want to listen to what vile old boggarts say. Though I imagine she was actually a hag, but you don't want to listen to them either.'

'What did Granny say about this?' Ted asked his daughter.

'I couldn't hear; the boggarty hag lady had a very loud voice. But then Auntie Tessa came and took me to the park. We had big ice-cream cones with chocolate flakes and raspberry sauce and we played in the fountain. I liked that, but I still didn't get to play with Grandpa, or talk to Granny,' Nymphadora pouted.

'And Granny was just as annoyed about it as you were, titch,' her aunt's voice came from the doorway.

'Marjorie Dursley,' Tessa said to Andromeda as she entered the room, 'isn't Mum's friend at all, she's just a neighbour who likes to come round and annoy us every now and again. But she's awfully bullish and won't take a telling at all. Please don't think Mum said nothing to defend Dora: she did, but it just washes over the old hag's head. She told her to leave several times, but in the end it seemed better to remove Dora than to have her the centre of an argument. Mum looked positively murderous; and you know how gentle she normally is, it takes a lot to rattle her.'

Andromeda, satisfied that her daughter (whose hair was back to its favoured bright pink) was not permanently traumatised, placed her down and embraced her sister-in-law.

'It's good to see you; I miss you when you're away at university.'

'Only one more year left, and I'm hoping to get a job near here. But why don't you come and visit: apparate over?'

'I don't like side-along apparating Nymphadora. I'm always worried she'll let go and end up lost somewhere, or splinched, or lost _and_ splinched.'

'Or you could get the bus. There's a coach from the local station that stops directly outside my flat. Ted could see you on to the bus and I would meet you at the other end.'

Tessa's mouth twitched in amusement, as she knew what the reaction would be to that suggestion. The fact of the matter was that old habits die hard and Andromeda was simply not comfortable in the muggle world. For a girl who had been brought up as an aristocrat, learning the correct way to conduct herself and assured of her place in wizarding society, having to move in a world of which she was completely ignorant was a source of unimaginable terror for her. Sure enough, a look of fear crossed Andromeda's eyes, before she swiftly changed the subject.

'What sort of job are you hoping to get?'

'Tessa's training to be a primary school teacher, Anna,' said Ted with a grin. 'Just think, if she gets a job round here, Dora could go to the same school. You wouldn't have any objections to her teaching Dora, would you?'

Andromeda glared at her husband.

'Your sister has just said that she has another year left of studying. Nymphadora is of school age _this_ September.'

Tessa looked from her brother to her sister-in-law with confusion.

'Am I missing something?'

'Your brother seems to think that my daughter should attend muggle primary school after the summer.'

'What's wrong with that? She's four isn't she?'

Andromeda threw her head back and screamed in frustration.

'Look at her.'

Nymphadora was sitting playing with the cat. Her hair was pink, but as they watched she scrunched up her face and her hair changed to a stripy grey to match her pet. The animal let out a miaow of approval, the child giggled, scrunched her face up once more and sprouted a set of whiskers, before excitedly shouting, 'come on Mummy, you can join in too.'

Andromeda threw her husband a look that plainly said, 'See?' before transforming into a sleek black cat and leaping to her daughter's side. Tessa shook her head in wonder.

'I will _never_ get used to her doing that, but yes, unless you want the existence of the Wizarding World to be splashed across the front page of the Daily Mail, I think your wife has a point about muggle primary school.'

Ted could have sworn he heard a satisfied purr of victory.

Tessa then turned her attention to her niece.

'Dora, toots, you're coming to my birthday party on Saturday, aren't you?'

The child nodded vigorously.

'How old are you going to be?'

'Twenty-one, that's why I'm having a big party; I'm becoming a proper grown-up.'

Nymphadora, now minus the whiskers, but sporting a pair of pointy ears, was absent-mindedly tickling the chin of her mother in her animagus form.

'But Mummy says people become grown-up at seventeen.'

' _Witches_ become grown-up at seventeen. Us muggles can't seem to make up our minds on the correct age, but 21 is traditional, I suppose.'

'Can Sirius come to your party? He thinks you're pretty. He says he wants to take you out to dinner.'

Andromeda, unable to contain herself, returned to human form, and as she caught Tessa's eye they both burst out laughing at Nymphadora's innocently made remark.

'Tell your cousin that charming as he is, I'm not a cradle-snatcher; anyway, he's not actually interested in me, he's just trying to get a rise out of his mother by being able to say he's dating a muggle. Despite the fact he no longer lives at home, your big cousin still revels in annoying his parents.'

'The Blacks are going to think our family have been sent by Helga to destroy them,' said Ted conversationally as he watched his daughter repeating the words "not a cradle-snatcher" to herself as she tried to remember the phrase.

Tessa shook her head.

'I can't believe the little brat is using Dora to try and talk me into it, I'll be having words.'

Andromeda was shaking her head; a grin plastered across her face; tears pouring down her cheeks.


	2. Chapter 2

'So, run this past me again; what are you asking?'

'If you want to come along to Tessa's birthday.'

'Who?'

'Ted's sister; you've met her - remember, Christmas before last at my cousin's house?'

'Oh yeah. When is it?'

'Tomorrow afternoon.'

James grinned. 'Sorry Padfoot, no can do.'

'Well don't look so bloody happy about it,' grumbled Sirius.

'I'm sure you'll have a lovely time,' said James, patting Sirius on the back as he puffed his chest out, 'but tomorrow is sacrosanct; it's the day I have been waiting for for six years. Tomorrow, my life is going to be made complete.'

'Are you all right, Prongsie?' said Sirius, with a look of mock concern.

'Absolutely. Tomorrow I have a date. With Lily. Evans only bloody well agreed to go out with me!'

He let out a "ha!" of jubilation, and Sirius grinned and punched the air.

Sirius arrived at the Lupins' home and knocked on the door. As soon as it opened, he launched into his tale of woe.

'Prongs has abandoned us for a certain member of the fairer sex, and Wormtail's Mummy won't let him out to play.'

However, when Sirius actually looked up and saw his friend, he realised that the Remus who had answered the door looked thoroughly fed up and distinctly on edge.

'Is everything all right, Moony?'

'Mum and Dad have visitors. I'm finding it somewhat excrutiating.'

'It can't be that bad; everyone likes you. I know you dislike being the centre of attention, but I'm sure you can put up with it for one afternoon.'

'They know. Wouldn't even touch the biscuits Mum got me to hand round. Obviously worried they might _catch_ something,' he pronounced bitterly.

Anger momentarily flashed across Sirius's face; and he balled his hands into fists. But then he grinned.

'Well, then; that solves that problem. I'm requisitioning you into service.'


	3. Chapter 3

Teresa Jayne Tonks' twenty-first birthday party was being held in the village hall with vast swathes of friends and relatives in attendance, including one Sirius Black. Sirius had been delighted to receive his invitation, even after Andromeda had mercilessly informed him that it was "just a pity invite", and he would be useful keeping Nymphadora entertained when she inevitably got bored of pretending to be a muggle. Sirius had not actually informed Remus precisely where they were going until they were half way to the venue, and on discovering their destination, Remus had started up a steady stream of protest.

'Sirius, you can't just invite me along to someone else's party!'

'It's fine.'

'It's rude.'

'It's fine.'

'They might have had to give the venue numbers.'

'I doubt the local mayor has planted an inspector on the door.'

'They might be having a sit down meal.'

'It's definitely a buffet.'

'I doubt Tessa will want me tagging along.'

'You got on well with her last time you met.'

' _Sirius!_ I have met the girl once, at your cousin's house two years ago, when we exchanged polite hellos. It hardly constitutes a friendship worthy of me turning up at her coming of age party!'

'Would you rather be at home?'

Remus had to admit that he would not prefer being at home, and if he was honest with himself, he was rather looking forward to spending the afternoon in the company of people who didn't know about his condition. People who didn't even know his condition existed outside of legend.

'What do you think they would say; if they knew?'

'Knew what?'

'About me…?'

'I'm sure there would be mass panic amongst all the muggle guests,' said Sirius lazily. 'Except Tessa, I imagine Tessa would take it in her stride,' said Sirius thoughtfully. 'She knows about magic, but everything about our world is still strange to her, so it probably wouldn't occur to her that being a werewolf was something out of the ordinary for us. She'd probably be a little taken aback, then shrug her shoulders and file the information under "more weird stuff in my brother's world." I doubt she would differentiate between a werewolf and an animagus. I'd advise keeping it quiet from Anna though.'

'Yes, I can't imagine your cousin taking it too well.'

'I'm not sure. But that's just it: I'm not sure. Anna somehow always manages to be surprising; she plays her cards so close to her chest, so you never know what she's thinking. I would never have imagined she would run off and marry a muggle-born; and yet she did. She might shock you and take it well; I just wouldn't...risk it.'

Suddenly they realised that they were at the door of the venue, and were being welcomed with enthusiasm.

'Sirius! So glad you could come!' exclaimed Tessa, enveloping him in a warm hug.

'Anna told me it was just a pity invite.'

'Ignore her; she's just winding you up. I'm really not sympathetic enough a person to invite people to my party out of pity,' laughed Tessa.

She drew back and looked at Sirius's companion.

'Remus, isn't it?'

'I'm sorry, Sirius dragged me along; I don't want to intrude…'

'Nonsense, you're very welcome,' she said, hugging Remus too. 'The more the merrier! Anyway, we'll need someone to keep an eye on that one,' she indicated to Remus's left with a wink.

Sirius looked momentarily affronted.

'Where's Pipsqueak?'

'I'm not sure; I _believe_ she's either hiding under the table, or under my gran's skirt.'

'That doesn't sound like Dora.'

'No, but there are a lot of women around and Dora is impossibly adorable. I don't think she was overly impressed by the number of wet kisses from old ladies she was being expected to endure, so she decided to hide until people forgot about her. Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone.'

By the time Sirius entered the hall, Nymphadora was no longer hiding. Ted was crawling around the floor with the exuberant four year old on his back. Nymphadora was barely recognisable. Her hair, tied up in pink ribbons, was its natural, conservative dark blonde; she was not sporting whiskers, talons, rabbit ears, a pig's snout, or anything else not strictly ordinary, and rather than the robes Sirius was accustomed to seeing her in, she was wearing a flowery dress. Ted was wearing a pair of trousers, a shirt and jumper; Andromeda, Sirius noticed, had made no attempt whatsoever to blend in, and was wearing her best robes. She was sitting in a corner of the hall, nursing a glass of water and looking rather overwhelmed.

'So you already know my parents. Mum, Dad, you remember Sirius and Remus?'

'Yes of course, it's lovely to see you both again,' said Elizabeth Tonks with a smile on her face.

Michael Tonks nodded amiably and the two boys mumbled a greeting.

'The girls over there are mostly my friends from Uni. That's Patricia, Helen, Ruby, and Patricia's little sister Pauline.'

Pauline came hurrying over.

'Tess! I haven't said Happy Birthday! Is that your niece over there? The famous Dora?'

'Yes, that's her.'

'She looks just like you.'

'I know. It's fairly maddening when I take her out and get disapproving looks from judgemental old ladies who assume I must be that most wicked and shameful of things: a teenage single mum…'

Pauline laughed.

'So what do you do?'

'Get Dora to call me "Mum" when in their earshot?'

'Does she play along?'

'Sometimes; it depends what mood she's in. Oh, sorry, I'm meant to be doing introductions. Pauline, this is Anna's cousin Sirius, and this is Remus; he's gate-crashing.'

'I'm sorry,' mumbled Remus. 'I said to Sirius. I thought…'

'Remus will you please relax?' said Tessa with exasperation evident in her voice. 'You're among friends here.'

Pauline, it seemed, was rather taken with Remus, and dragged him over to meet the rest of Tessa's friends, whilst talking animatedly at a phenomenal pace. Sirius was convinced someone must have put a fast forwarding charm on her voice-box.

'And these are my grandparents: Maurice and Aoife MacMillan, known to Dora as Gran-Gran and Grandpa Squiggle. Gran, Grandpa, this is Sirius Black.'

Sirius did not fail to notice that Tessa had slipped his surname into the introduction, nor could he fail to notice the knowing look that passed between the old couple as they looked at his Gryffindor Quidditch t-shirt. Did they know? He had thought only the parents of muggle-borns were allowed to know about magic.

'Grandpa Squiggle?'

'It's a long story,' laughed Maurice, 'stemming from Dora eavesdropping and misinterpreting things.'

'So you're Anna's cousin?' asked Aoife. 'I've heard her mention you before. She's a dear girl; and things haven't been easy for her. I'm glad she still has you; still has some family.'

'Yeah, I'm still at school so I don't see her all that often; but it's good to know we've got each other, when we need each other. I should probably go over and say "hello" to her now: she looks a bit traumatised.'

Maurice nodded.

'Good to meet you; we'll need to chat properly later.'

Sirius made his way through the sea of guests over to Andromeda and tapped her on the shoulder.

'Whatever happened to the statute of secrecy?' he teased his cousin.

Andromeda looked her cousin up and down, taking in the scarlet t-shirt with its Gryffindor lion and "Quidditch Champions 1977" emblazoned across it.

'The words "pot", "kettle", and "black" spring to mind,' she responded dryly. 'I look _ridiculous_ in muggle clothes. Anyway, I made a concession – I left my hat at home; and if anyone asks, I'll tell them Dora dared me to come in fancy dress. What's your excuse?'

Sirius pulled over a chair and sat down.

'People will just think I'm wearing the t-shirt of some band they've never heard of. T-shirts are a bit subtler than robes Anna-ban.'

'Don't call me that. Ever.'

'What about Drommie-Pops?'

Andromeda narrowed her eyes.

'Ada-Meda?'

'Stop it. Now.'

'Roma-B?'

'One more word and I'll hex you.'

'Here? You wouldn't dare.'

'Wouldn't I? A quick "obliviate" and no one would be any the wiser,' she smiled.

Sirius seemed to decide that he shouldn't risk calling his cousin's bluff. Andromeda glanced over at her daughter.

'I'm itching to put an apron on Dora; she's going to get that dress filthy before ten minutes are up; but I'm told that would look too "Victorian" to present company,' she sighed resignedly.

'Did you hear Cissy's engaged?'

'To Lucius Malfoy, yes. I saw the announcement in the Prophet yesterday. I suppose she loves him, and she's going into the marriage happy, so she's in a better position than Bella was. I'd just be a bit happier if she had fallen in love with someone less odious.'

'Have you seen Bella lately?'

'I bumped into her in Diagon Alley. She barely acknowledged me.'

'So she did acknowledge you?'

'Well, she glared at me and stalked off; does that count as acknowledging? Sirius, just how deep in this mess is she?' There was a note of concern in Andromeda's voice.

'Too deep, I think it's too late for her; I can't see any way back now. Narcissa hasn't joined, if that's any consolation.'

'Not really. I never expected her to. Since when did Cissy like getting her hands dirty?'

'Fair point.'

'Do you think it would have been different, Sirius, if Alcyone hadn't died?' The sadness in Andromeda's voice was impossible to miss.

'Honestly?' started Sirius, 'I don't know. I suppose if Alcyone had lived, Voldemort would never have allowed Bella to join the Death-Eaters in the first place. He wouldn't have wanted to risk the divided loyalties of having a mother in the ranks.

'But Alcyone's death drove her to join…'

'No, Andromeda, it didn't. She'd wanted to join long before that, you _know_ that, but Voldemort wouldn't allow it. She was captivated by it all, by him. Alcyone's death gave her a path in, that's all; Voldemort suddenly sensed a weakness he could exploit. You need to stop making excuses for her. If things had worked out differently, she might not be a member, but she certainly wouldn't be treating you any differently. And Rudolphus would still be a Death-Eater, and she would be supporting his endeavours wholeheartedly.'

'True.'

'She never got over it though. She pretends she has; but from what I hear, she won't even mention Alcyone's name. It's weird feeling sorry for a Death-Eater, but…'

'…but she's family. She's my sister, Sirius, and I'll always love her. For the two days she had Alcyone, she was happy; happier than I'd ever imagined she could be in that marriage. We _all_ were happy, and then…Looking at it with hindsight we should have been prepared. She was never going to live; she was too small, but we all expected a miracle. I suppose that was the first time that I realised, I mean, _really realised_ , that magic couldn't solve everything. I couldn't have coped, had it been my baby. If anything ever happened to Nymphadora, it would destroy me.'

The cousins were startled out of their thoughts by a small voice yelling excitedly at the top of its lungs.

' _Sirius!_ You're here!'

Nymphadora ran over to her cousin and grabbed his arm, attempting to drag him out of his seat. 'Come and play with me, you can be the puppy. Daddy can't play properly, he's only pretending.'

'Duty calls,' Sirius grinned, striding away with his little cousin. 'Sorry bossy boots,' he whispered conspiratorially, 'I can only pretend too: there are muggles about.'

Nymphadora glared at him. 'You're not usually boring,' she said sulkily, folding her arms across her chest. She turned to Remus, who had managed to escape from Pauline and had come over to join them. 'Can _you_ turn into a doggy then?'

Nymphadora looked confused when Remus blushed scarlet and Sirius burst out laughing. 'What did I say?'

 **A/N I feel I need to explain my reasoning about Bellatrix. JK Rowling has said that Bellatrix only married Rudolphus because she was expected to, so if she was that desperate to do her duty and please her family, it seemed strange that she never had children, because producing an heir and continuing the pureblood line would presumably have been expected of her too. It always seemed that there had to be a reason why she was childless. And then I remembered the line in HBP "if I had had sons" and how strange that had seemed when I read it. Bellatrix, a woman, was Voldemort's most devoted follower, and his most skilled fighter: his "best lieutenant", so presumably she would have expected** _ **any**_ **child of hers to serve Voldemort - why would she have considered a girl unworthy for the task? So there had to be a reason why she specifically mentioned sons.**


	4. Chapter 4

Nymphadora had decided to forgive Sirius for his uncharacteristic self-restraint after he agreed to a forfeit, namely, taking part in muggle karaoke. With Tessa's help, she had selected ABBA from the selection of records stacked haphazardly in the corner of the hall. By some miracle, the record had remained in one piece after Nymphadora had unceremoniously tripped over the pile and dropped it on the floor; the same could not, however, be said for the records she had ended up landing on, and the child had cried in despair over the fact she had broken her Aunt's possessions, and Tessa would be sad. Tessa had reassured her niece that the records in question belonged to Ted anyway, and no one was going to mourn the loss of his appalling taste in music; Dora, Tessa swore, had in fact done her, and everyone else at the party, a great service. Andromeda had slipped over and discreetly instructed Tessa to put the broken records away somewhere safe and she would repair them once the uninitiated guests had gone home.

And so it was that Andromeda stood watching her daughter giggling hysterically as Sirius and Remus, sporting shiny paper party hats secured with elastic, treated the party guests to a rather tuneless and halting, but gamely energetic and overdramatic rendition of "Mamma Mia". Remus's movements were perhaps a little more self-conscious, and performed with a little less gusto than his friend's, but he performed regardless. A few of the older guests looked on disapprovingly.

'I'm impressed,' whispered Tessa, 'I see your cousin and his friend understand rule number one.'

'Rule number one?'

'Regardless of how tough or cool you think you are, if a preschooler hands you a pretend cup of tea, you drink, and you damn well enjoy it,' she smiled.

Andromeda smiled.

'That's certainly not the rule number one, _I_ was taught.'

'No, I don't imagine it was,' smiled Tessa. 'Actually it wasn't rule number one in our household either; that would have been "don't slouch".'

'Really? Your mother's always struck me as being so relaxed.'

'About most things, yes, but you're forgetting she was a ballet dancer. Slouching is practically a capital offence in her book.'

'Now you mention it, you _do_ have lovely posture.'

'I'm glad I have your approval,' laughed Tessa. Andromeda grinned back.

'I don't think playing the fool has ever been something Sirius has struggled with. All that surprises me is that he managed to restrain himself from transforming resulting in the forfeit being required.' She lowered her voice. 'But do muggles _actually_ listen to this music? Really?'

'Less of your cheek!'

'I thought Ted's musical tastes were bad enough.'

'Well no, in fairness, that one is pretty bad. In my defence, it's not mine: it's Pauline's. Perhaps against my better judgement, I did not request prior approval of records brought to the party.'

Nymphadora, by this point, was growing tired of watching her cousin humiliate himself. The richly decorated buffet table had grabbed her attention, and she wandered over. On approaching it, she found that close up, the table was a little too high for her to see the display; she had to stand on a chair to get a proper look. Her eyes widened in wonder at the spread. A decoration caught her eye, and the chair wobbled as she stood on her tiptoes and leant across the table to grab it; on securing her prize she tumbled off the chair, landing with a thump on her knee. Andromeda rushed over as the child let out a wail.

'It's all right darling, you're all right. What have I told you about being more careful?'

'It hurts,' sniffed Nymphadora.

'Shall I kiss it better?'

Nymphadora nodded pitifully and Andromeda rubbed the knee and kissed her daughter's forehead.

'Mummy, what's this?' Nymphadora said, as she dangled the tiny, brightly coloured plastic bottle by its string, all memory of her terrible injury forgotten.

'Where did you get that darling?'

'I found it.'

'Found it on the table?' said Andromeda with a raise of her eyebrow.

'Yes,' said Dora nonchalantly, as if she didn't really understand the point her mother was trying to make. 'There was lots of them, all in different colours. What is it?'

'I have no idea; why don't you ask your dad? And then get him to _put it back on the table._ '

'I don't know where Daddy is.'

'Well ask your auntie then, and then ask her to put it back where you found it. I don't want you climbing on the table again.'

Andromeda calculated that it was best to allow her daughter to have her question answered; she knew from experience that if Dora's curiosity was not satisfied, the chances of her doing as she was told were fairly remote.

'Auntie Tessa!' Nymphadora shouted, as she dashed across the room. Tessa scooped her up in her arms.

'How's my favourite Dora? Are you enjoying the party?'

'I'm your only Dora!'

'Are you now? And there was me thinking I had a whole cupboard full of Doras that I could pick from as it suited me.'

'No! I'm Dora!'

'I know you're Dora, but what about Dora number 2, and Dora number 3?'

'No! It's just ME!'

'Just you? Are you sure?'

'Yes!'

'Oh yes, I think you _are_ right. I must have been confused. How could there ever be more than one Dora?'

'What's this?'

'Dora, give that to me, you shouldn't be touching that.'

'But it's pretty!'

'You still shouldn't be touching it.'

'But what _is_ it?' she demanded with frustration.

Slowly coming to the same conclusion as her sister-in-law, Tessa sighed. 'Well, I can show you; but you have to promise to be very careful and do exactly as I tell you, okay?'

'Okay,' said Dora, an excited grin spreading across her face.

Tessa put Dora down and put an arm around her.

'Right, hold the neck with one hand, that's right. No, don't put your hand there; no don't point it at Sirius; no, if you're not to point it at Sirius, you definitely don't point it at yourself. Point it at the wall, away from people. Good girl. Now, hold the string with your other hand, and pull it hard.'

Nymphadora pulled. There was a loud bang and brightly coloured streamers flew through the air. A few people jumped at the noise. The child gasped and looked round at her aunt with delight.

'Magic!' she whispered.

Tessa smiled. 'Yes, that's right. Magic.'

'Can we do it again?'

'Not right now. I think it's just about time for my birthday cake,' she said as she tickled her niece's ribs. 'Are you going to help me blow out the candles?'

'Don't you want to blow them out?'

'You're forgetting how old I am; there's going to be so many candles I don't think I could possibly have enough puff to blow them all out myself.'

Nymphadora grinned and jumped up and down with excitement as the lights in the hall were switched off and Michael Tonks walked in carrying the cake, his face beaming with pride for his daughter. Andromeda couldn't help but notice that the candles, rather than being _on_ the cake, were adorning a neat ring of marzipan surrounding it. As the guests gathered round the table and started singing "Happy Birthday", the cake was placed on the table, and Tessa lifted Nymphadora up to face it.

'Ready?' Tessa whispered. 'Three, two, one: blow them out!'

Nymphadora took a big breath, stuck out her lower lip, and blew with all her might. Unfortunately her lower lip misdirected the breath so that her fringe flew up off her forehead, but the candles remained untouched. Tessa discreetly blew the candles out herself.

' _Well done_ , titch. I definitely couldn't have done that without you.'

Nymphadora smiled.

'Can I show the cake to Sirius before it gets all cut up?'

'Of course.'

'Sirius! Come and see the cake! I decorated it!'

At Nymphadora's words Sirius, Andromeda, Ted and Remus all came over to inspect the child's handiwork. On actually seeing it close up, it became evident why the candles had not found their way onto the top of the cake. The cake looked like it had been the victim of an explosion in a bakery. There were hundreds and thousands, in places a centimetre deep, covering every spare inch of sponge and floating in a pool of skooshy cream, the colour from the tiny sugar strands bleeding into the fluffy white of the cream. Three silver balls sat in the centre, surrounded by tiny fingerprints. Ted burst out laughing at his sister's expense, Remus's eyes widened in disbelief, Sirius clapped his little cousin on the shoulder with a grin, and Andromeda's hands flew to her face.

'The lid fell off the sprinkles,' said Nymphadora by way of explanation. 'But it's okay, 'cause sprinkles taste nice.'

'So much for Mum's vision of elegance and crystallised rose petals,' said Ted, struggling to get the words out or even breathe as he was laughing so hard.

'It'll still taste all right.'

'Tessa, I am so sorry,' said Andromeda with a horrified expression on her face.

'Anna, it's all right. Mum would never have allowed her to help if she'd thought I was going to get precious about it. And it's certainly memorable,' she said, as she joined her brother in descending into a fit of giggles. 'People are going to be talking about this cake for _years._ '

'You spoil her,' said Andromeda half disapprovingly, half amusedly.

'Of course I do. She's my niece; it's my job to spoil her,' responded Tessa, as a set of sticky little fingers gleefully sank their way deep into the mess.


	5. Chapter 5

By early evening the party had drawn to a close. Most of the guests had gone home, though a few stragglers remained. Andromeda was assisting with the clear up. She was stood holding a bin bag, wearing a pair of marigolds and glaring at Sirius, who was pointing at her and laughing.

'You know we could be finished much more quickly if you actually helped rather than stood around with your mouth gaping open,' she said testily.

'No, I like seeing you suffer,' he answered with a wink.

I'm just waiting for those two old crones to leave and I can get my wand out and have this all sorted in no time.'

The old crones in question were members of the Church Guild, who had invited themselves along after they had overheard Elizabeth mentioning the party to certain friendlier members at one of their weekly meetings. Andromeda had good reason to view them with distaste, as they were, at that moment, standing at the door engaged in a slightly too loud conversation about her.

'She's rather strange, Edward's wife, isn't she?'

'I know; where did she get that dress from? Did she borrow it from Aoife's pre-war wardrobe?' She laughed disparagingly. 'It's certainly beautifully made, but it looks like it's come out of the Ark.'

'She said the child had dared her to come in fancy dress, but I certainly wouldn't be indulging a child's whims in that way.'

'She's rather _anti-social_ too. I asked her if she would be interested in becoming involved with the Guild, I thought it was only the decent thing to at least make an _effort_ to _include_ her, but she showed no enthusiasm at all. Looked at me like I was something she had scraped off her shoe, said she wouldn't wish to _intrude,_ but the _tone_ she used to say it; I've never been spoken to in that way in my life! What Edward sees in her, I really can't understand.'

'Well, she's certainly _attractive_ enough; but I didn't think Edward was the sort to go on looks alone. He _was_ such a lovely boy. Clearly, I was mistaken.'

'They were married so young as well. I suppose we all make mistakes in our youth; though I'm baffled as to why Elizabeth didn't put a stop to it. I had thought Edward must have made a _big_ mistake; you know, that they'd had no choice to get married; but the child wasn't born until a year after the wedding.'

'And that's another thing: the child. She's as wild as heather; though I can see where she gets it from, now that I've met that cousin of hers. And she's clearly spoilt and overindulged; and that _name_ ; where _did_ they come up with that one? It's not exactly a good Christian name, is it? It just shows how immature the two of them are. They clearly weren't ready to be parents.'

'I heard Elizabeth saying it was a family name. Apparently the girl comes from _money._ You know, some of the old families do tend towards the _flamboyant_ and _eccentric_ ; they're secure enough that they don't really need to worry about what people think. But _I_ 've certainly never seen the name "Black" listed in Debrett's.'

'Well exactly…'

Andromeda was tensing up with anger. Who _did_ these women think they were? She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

'Don't mind them,' said Tessa soothingly, 'they're like that with everyone; could turn a chocolate shop sour those two. Mum didn't actually invite them, but they're on the committee that runs the hall, so they obviously took it upon themselves to come along. It's probably the first party they've ever been to; I can't imagine they actually ever get _invited_ anywhere.

'The one on the left is Marjorie Dursley.'

'The one who upset Dora?'

Tessa thought she saw Andromeda's hand flicker towards the pocket of her robes.

'Leave it, Anna.'

At that moment the women caught Andromeda's eye as she looked coldly at them. With the slight embarrassment expected of gossipers who had been caught, the women grabbed their coats and beat a hasty exit.

'Shall we finish clearing up?'

It had been an eventful day for Nymphadora; she had let off five more party poppers and used the streamers to decorate Sirius's hair; she had been fussed over by Pauline, Patricia, Ruby and Helen, who had taught her ring-a-ring-a-roses; she had danced with Remus (Elizabeth had attempted to instruct her in where to put her feet, but Remus was still not certain that his toes would ever be quite the same again); she had stolen her mother's shoes; she had chased her father around the room; she had eaten far too much. She had now been asked to help by picking up the empty party popper shells, and then locating both her own shoes and her mother's. However, even a four year old witch had a limit to her energy reserves, and instead of helping, she was standing in the middle of the hall, thumb in mouth, rubbing her eyes and crying inconsolably. Her hair had dulled to a mousey brown, which had fortunately, due to a tangle of streamers in the child's hair, gone unnoticed by Tessa's muggle friends, who had stayed to help with the clear up.

Andromeda took one look at Nymphadora, put down the binbag, removed the marigolds from her hands and picked up the exhausted little girl.

'I think someone's tired.'

'I'm not tired!' wailed Nymphadora, as her eyes drooped and she let out an enormous yawn.

Andromeda smiled.

'Well, what's the matter then?'

'I don't know, I just don't know,' she sniffed, clinging onto her mother's neck as if her life depended on it.

'Do you just want a cuddle?'

'I want Babbity!'

Babbity. Andromeda put her still crying daughter down and made her way to the cloakroom to find her bag. Once located, she started rifling through it. She knew she had put her old toy in there, but it was proving elusive. Granted, there was a lot in the bag, but what in Merlin's name had she done with that bloody rabbit?

Meanwhile, Maurice MacMillan had crouched down next to his great-granddaughter and suggested that she might like a story. Nymphadora had nodded pitifully, taken Maurice's hand, and was now snuggled up between him and Aoife, negotiating what story she should have read to her. Sirius was watching on with interest, knowing full well that his baby cousin had the negotiating skills of a terrorist.

'Babbity.'

'Again, Dora?'

'Yes, please.'

'What about "The Fountain of Fair Fortune"? That's a nice one.'

'I like Babbity.' There was still a tired whine to her voice.

'But we've read Babbity so many times. What about "The Wizard and the Hopping Pot"?

'But Babbity would be sad if I read about someone else!'

Sirius fully understood why a metamorphmagus with an animagus for a cousin and a mother would be so fond of Babbity Rabbity. He hadn't thought Nymphadora would stoop quite so low as emotional blackmail to get her way however, but there it was.

'How about "The Warlock's Hairy Heart?"' he said wickedly.

Nymphadora looked at him with a puzzled look on her face.

'I don't know that one.'

'You are _not_ reading "The Warlock's Hairy Heart" to my four year old, Sirius. Do not even _think_ about it,' snarled Andromeda as she handed a battered stuffed rabbit to her daughter. Sirius thought she must have apparated; he certainly hadn't seen her walking across the room. But she hadn't made a _sound._

'Even if I do the sound effects?'

' _Especially_ not if you do the sound effects. I still remember Evan traumatising Narcissa with that story. You're not the one who'll have to deal with nightmares at three in the morning, Black!'

Sirius realised his cousin was serious and shut his mouth. She _never_ referred to him by his surname.

'Well,' said Aoife fondly, 'if it's going to be Babbity I don't think your Grandpa Squiggle will even need the book.'

Nymphadora smiled, laid her head on Maurice's lap, and stuck her thumb firmly back in her mouth.

'Once upon a time…'

As Sirius listened to the story, which Maurice told enthusiastically and with rich detail, Sirius was suddenly reminded that the man sitting in front of him was a muggle. He could just about get his head around the idea that the muggle grandfather of a wizard would have read "The Tales of Beedle the Bard", but the detail he was improvising into the Bard's tale was the detail of someone very familiar and comfortable with magic, albeit a rather old-fashioned kind. Not wishing to interrupt the old man's tale (particularly as Nymphadora was now looking quite relaxed and contented, her tears forgotten), he turned to Aoife.

'I'm surprised you're so familiar with Wizarding fairytales. I thought you'd be reading her "The Snow Queen and the Seven Goblins" or something.'

'You mean "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves?' said Aoife with a smile.

'I was _sure_ Tessa said…'

'This is Tessa we're talking about? She'll have been pulling your leg. But yes, Maurice and I are quite familiar with Beedle.'

'How? I didn't think grandparents of muggleborns were allowed to…'

'We knew about magic long before Ted got his Hogwarts' letter,' Aoife said sadly.

'I don't understand.'

'You haven't worked it out yet? Mr and Mrs MacMillan? Grandpa Squiggle? We're squibs, Sirius, both of us. It's how we met.'

'Squibs?' Sirius laughed. 'This is brilliant! I take it the family know?'

'Well, they only found out when Ted and Anna got engaged,' she smiled. 'We had our suspicions, when Ted was born; you notice things, if you know what to look out for, but we couldn't be certain. And then when Eliza told us that he'd won a scholarship to an elite boarding school in Scotland, we were so sure, but we still couldn't say anything, because we didn't _know._ He could have been at Gordonstoun, or Fettes, and we could hardly ask. If I'd gone to my daughter and asked if her son was a wizard, and I'd been _wrong,_ I would likely have been carted off to an asylum. It was only when we were introduced to Andromeda that we had confirmation. I think she got quite a shock when Ted's supposedly ignorant muggle grandparents knew all about her world.'

'So what was your name before you married?'

'I was a McKinnon.'

'McKinnon?' Sirius said excitedly. 'Are you related to my friend Marlene?'

'Not that I know of, sorry; I only have the one sister, and she never married. I suppose if she's a McKinnon there must be some connection though.'

'Are you still in touch with your family?'

'Well, my parents are long dead; they died when Eliza was just a baby. I still write to Orla, and we've seen each other a few times since Ted and Anna got married; she came to the wedding; but there's still a distance.'

'Typical purebloods,' muttered Sirius.

'No Sirius, it wasn't like that at all. It was me really.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, it's not much fun being a squib, really. You never quite fit in anywhere. It's different for muggleborns, because the magical community know about the muggle world, so muggleborns can be quite open, and whilst I _know_ there's prejudice, there are always people who're willing to guide you and help you when you stumble across things you don't know. But as a squib? I was completely unprepared. I think my parents were rather in denial; they knew I hadn't shown any magic, but they kept telling themselves that I just hadn't displayed any. It wasn't that they were ashamed of me,' Aoife stressed, 'it was just, they understood how difficult it would be, and didn't want that for me. It was only when it got to July 1911, and all their friends' children had received their Hogwarts' letters, and mine hadn't arrived, that they finally had to accept the truth, and hurriedly arrange a muggle education for me. So I went to boarding school in England having had no exposure to the muggle world at all, and I didn't know a thing.'

'And you didn't enjoy it?'

'Would you have? I stood out. I didn't know what things were. I'd never seen half the muggle things before. I couldn't understand why the photographs were static. I didn't know the right words for things; I got laughed at when I told the girls in my class that my father was a Healer. I got the cane for making up stories when I told the teacher that my sister had a pet puffskein. Everyone thought I was stupid because I'd never heard of Charles Dickens. And my parents wrote to me by _owl,_ so my letters came to the dormitory at night, rather than being handed out at breakfast with the other girls'. Of course I couldn't tell people that my letters were coming that way, and people noticed that I didn't receive any, and they asked questions. I didn't have any friends. I was just the odd little Irish girl who didn't fit in.'

Sirius was starting to understand where the story was going.

'When you're a squib, no matter how kind your parents are, no matter how much they care, no matter how much they do for you, you can't help but feel deficient somehow, and you can see that people look at you with pity. But then I met Maurice, and he was a kindred spirit, and finally I had someone who _understood_. After we got married, and had Elizabeth, we didn't want her to grow up with the same insecurities. I wanted her to believe that she could conquer the world, but for that to happen, we had to make a proper go of it in the muggle world, we had to completely immerse ourselves; we couldn't keep clinging on to a world that we could never fully be a part of. My parents died when Eliza was just a baby, and that made things difficult, because my sister and I needed each other then. Orla used to visit us, and when Eliza was very small, and still not really aware, we would visit her in Ireland; but when she stopped being a baby, and she started noticing things, the visits home stopped. It was the same with Maurice's family up in Scotland. And as the visits got less and less, we just sort of slowly lost touch.

'As I said, since Ted got married, we've been in touch a little more, and I've really, really enjoyed it. Magic is becoming part of our lives again. Our dog died recently, and Dora insisted that her father bought us a pygmy puff,' Aoife smiled. 'She was so proud of her suggestion. And Andromeda took me for lunch in Diagon Alley last week. I hadn't been there since I was a child. And it was funny how little it had changed. Most of the shops I remembered from sixty years ago were still there. The muggle world shifts and moves on at such a pace, but the magical world seems to cling onto tradition. I should probably find that a bit concerning, but it meant…it meant that sitting there, I felt I'd never left. It was nice.'

Sirius looked at the old woman. Somehow, there had been so much meaning wrapped up in her use of the word "nice".

Maurice had finished his story at the same time his wife had finished hers, and he smiled at her. Nymphadora was fast asleep on his lap; her hair was bright pink.

 **The End**

 **A/N Hope people enjoyed the story. I've enjoyed writing it! I hope Aoife doesn't come across as too whiny - she's not meant to be. I just wanted to give some of Ted's family background. I was a little unsure about making such close kin of Ted's squibs, as I was worried that would have meant that Ted would have been safe during the war, as he could have claimed close Wizarding relations, but then I thought, Voldemort and the Death-Eaters would be no less prejudiced against squibs than against muggle-borns.**

 **Reviews, comments and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated!**


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